An ordinary getup on an ordinary Alaskan woman. Still, that laugh sent out a siren call that appealed viscerally to the testosterone in every male within earshot. Once heard, it was never forgotten, and men wanted to hear it again, preferably from a horizontal position. Heads turned, eyes narrowed, butts shifted in chairs, and Jim closed his eyes and shook his head.

Conversation at the round table in the center of the room was rising in volume and the laughter was becoming raucous. Kate watched as a pint bottle was produced from the pocket of a pair of grimy overalls and passed around the table in a stealthy manner. She nudged Jim with her elbow.

I‘m begging you, he said. He was seated on an inside seat with his back to the revelers, both deliberate and determined choices. Laurel arrived at tableside, bearing their orders, appearing to him as an angel from upon high. All he wanted to do was eat and drink his meal in peace, if not quiet.

The green chile cheeseburgers were thick and juicy and loaded, and Laurel had remembered to bring them malt vinegar for the homemade fries. Kate, whose postursine enhanced metabolism had forgotten the frozen mac and cheese faster than a six-course Chinese dinner, was seduced into devoting all of her attention to the plate in front of her. When she emerged from gustatory heaven, the noise at the round table had risen another decibel level.

And then, as if someone had turned a switch, the noise shut off. Kate looked around to see what was going on.

Jim did not.

Phyllis Lestinkof was standing at the round table, a hand on the shoulder of one of the young mine workers. He was red-haired, blue eyes bright in a freckled face, with an awkward ranginess of build that made him look tall even sitting down. He shook off Phyllis‘s hand and said something to his friends that made Phyllis redden. It is, too! she said, and reached for his shoulder again. This time she laid hold and shook it.

This time he slapped her hand away.

The scene at the clinic that morning replayed itself in Kate‘s mind, and many things were clearer now than they had been then. She pushed her plate back. I‘m begging you, Jim said, without much hope.

You‘re repeating yourself, Dan said, watching events unfold with the judicious eye of a drama critic. Did those idiots not see an Alaska State Trooper in full regalia sitting ten feet away?

Oh, hey, man, one of the redhead‘s friends said. No call for that.

Fuck off, the redhead said, or spat, more like. He looked embarrassed, and angry. Several of the more prudent young men around the table pushed back their chairs and gathered their legs beneath them, ready to leap out of the line of fire when the shooting commenced.

No call for that, either, the friend said, his own face reddening. He looked at Phyllis. You okay, honey?